Resident Evil: XCrisis
by CrimsonDarkness 0013
Summary: "The finest trick of the devil is to persuade you that he does not exist." - Charles Pierre Baudelaire: Takes place during but not in the same setting as RE5, details inside; As adventurous as Chris' mission is in his final stand against Wesker, who is to say that there doesn't lurk a deeper darkness where least expected? Or if it should even exist? Details inside.
1. Chapter 1

calamity

Year 2009

Claire Redfield.

Age: 30

Occupation: Member of Terra-Save

Well, that can be argued with as at the moment she was now on a plane trip to somewhere on the west coast for the most unlikely job she could think of at the moment; babysitting. It wasn't that she was bad at it, but merely….the terms of the situations were a bit too much. Her previous babysitting adventures –to put it best- had her in the most interesting of predicaments.

The first had her protecting a Sherry Birkin, daughter of Umbrella researchers Annete and William Birkin; the latter became transformed by a much horrendous virus while the other was killed by the same man who was stricken with it. Not the greatest of stories, but considering it was part of her first time encountering the T-Virus as well as the G-Virus, it was commendable.

'I wonder where Sherry is right now…'

The second wasn't as bad…just taking care of Rani Chalwa for a moment's time or more possibly, and next thing you know; yup virus again, coming in hot by airplane. It could've been a similar repeat of last time, as again the G-Virus decided to show its ugly head again-

Claire thanked the flight attendant for a refill on her drink, continuing to look out with the window on her previous thoughts. Now, where was she? Oh right, the incident at the Havardville Airport. Well, not as much occurred as previous, but all the same, both girls made it and were alright…it's been long since Umbrella has been destroyed, and since she's last heard from her brother –who once again didn't tell her where he was headed to- all has been well.

No news of virus, bioterrorism at an all time low…yet whether it was nostalgia or her lingering fighting spirit, she had the feeling at the pit of her stomach that somehow there was more to this repose than how it appeared…then again, since the events that played out of how the virus came to the airport, could've been a queasy feeling from the idea the virus could be spread by plane.

"Attention passengers. We will be landing shortly, so please remain in your seats and fasten your seatbelts for landing."

Claire looked out the window to her destination; a much desert landscape, and at this time of year, it seemed to retain the same look, no doubt possibly brisk enough to at least wear a light jacket. Sometimes the terrain switched from various small houses and apartments to big stretches of land that'd make it seem like a nowhere.

'Come to think of it...this plane barely has any passengers on it.' Claire looked behind her to find only one or two really in sight, and that was still a small size of a crowd for a small plane.

"Well, this seems homey… I guess."

She looked to her ticket, still curious over such a small parchment.

_Twas a few weeks ago at the end of a recap meeting for Terrasave when –just as Clarie was about to leave- a lanky fidgety man lightly tapped at her shoulder, as she'd obviously turn to an act of attention. A well experienced Terrasave member, he had an occasional case of the jitters, a messy head of dirt colors hair and glasses that just wouldn't want to stay on his face. It was less likely they would since it seemed he had caught onto some allergies, sniffling and trying to catch his breath with one sneeze right after another._

"_Is something wrong John?"_

_The man known as John –John K. Landers- took a moment to shake off the stuttering and sniffling, wiping his nose on a hankerchief._

"_W-would you happen to be unoccupied this weekend or the week after Ms. Redfield?"_

_At first Claire was about to suddenly say 'no' thinking of something else on her mind, however John wasn't quite done yet._

"_It's of much importance and the job cannot be simply done without the right person."_

"_Oh." 'Phew…' "What is it?"_

"_A friend of mine…he's away on a business trip and has no one to take care of his dau-...dau...AAAAAHHHH-" Claire flinched back as a grand sneeze send the poor man into a seat, papers spilled onto the floor._

_Claire went to pick up the papers as Jack regained his composure, as well as another handkerchief. "Gesundheit."_

_"My apologies Ms. Redfield..." He took a breath, praying he could get though the conversation without dying of the dust and pollen invasion; "As I was saying, a friend of mine's daughter needs babysitting; however, there are also suspicions about the area he lives in. Rumors of a retired bioterrorism employee are also in that area, as we were tipped off by a few of the locals."_

_Claire wanted to roll her eyes at the fact she just entitled to her maternal part-time job, but considering it seemed part of her main job as well, she kept a straight face._

_"Do we have any evidence? You know how some rumors are misleading."_

"_I don't think I would joke about a subject like this Ms. Redfield. In fact…" The man pat around himself before reaching into his coat as handing over a yellow envelope, gently dusting off the lint before putting it out forward; "The flight is already paid for, as well as accommodations being settled."_

"…_well, alright."_

"_You have my tha...tha..." It took a short moment for recovery, but there was no impact fortunately. "...thanks Ms. Redfield." _

"…looks like my job isn't quite done yet…"

The landing and the luggage pick-up went by like a blur, Claire already seeing a well-dressed person holding up a sign for her, immediately coming over.

"Claire Redfield?"

"that's me. And you are?"

"No one of much importance ma'am. Just the chauffeur ma'am." A tip of the hat, and Claire was led to a slick-black limo, spotless by many means as the driver packed away her luggage.

'Well, looks like there's good money being spent on for this kind of job…' Claire thought as she entered the limo, the driver quick to begin heading to the next destination.

"So, where exactly are we headed?"

"1903 Dusk Avenue ma'am. I've heard you've come far."

"Not really…"

That was about all the small talk there was. The area she saw wasn't heavily populated…not much of a metropolitan place but it seemed much more peaceful like that…no people bustling about with traffic, no smells of putrid gasoline and garbage cans filling the streets. Compared to her previous locations, this was quite a change.

What come could come with such an opportunity though?

* * *

Nothing special at the moment seemed to be going on with the fabled Chris Redfield, nothing at. Just a-traveling on a nice boat ride along the bayou with his current partner Sheva Alomar and Josh Stone…hey, what's better than that? Coming across another boat filled to the brim with more victims of Las Plagas, attempting to shoot them down

"Oh shit!"

Yup, nothing out of the ordinary with Chris Redfield that his sister should be informed about.

No sooner had Chris and Sheva climbed onto the ship, only to be met with a Ricardo Irving. A low life B.O.W. smuggler, but a much important one as to give a lead to many more answers.

"Won't you two just die already? You're making me look bad." Irving snarled with annoyance, a crazy look in his eyes; "Who do you think got this entire operation off the ground? Research like this doesn't fund itself, you know! Yet everyone looks down on me..." –he turns to a vial clutched tightly in his left, bony hand- "but not anymore!"

"Don't do it!" Immediately to Sheva's plead do the partners draw their guns up, but already it is too late as the madman injects himself at his neck, and more instantly he begins writhing in pain, his back bubbling about in –no doubt- a viral transformation, various tentacles ripping form his back.

"I'm far beyond anything you could hope to become!"

A few rounds of bullets and Irving dives into the water…but instead what comes out form behind the BSAA members is a grand set of tentacles large enough to capsize the boat, accompanied by a pod-like shape containing the same insane man. All Chris had to say about it was "Shit."

"I just had an extreme makeover!"

Yup, nothing too out of the ordinary for a day in Chris Redfield's life as of now…

* * *

Jack stumbled and panted as he recovered from yet another sneeze as he headed to his car for his lunch break, the dandelions about like dancing dust bunnies earning their wings and forcing the allergen-weak man into his car.

"Darn spring..." He muttered as he took out his phone, pressing at numbers before placing it to his ear, the ringing repeating once...twice...before it was picked up. "Mr. Lumin, it's Jack. I did as you asked of me, but I still don't understand why you couldn't have any of your other family take care of her. you're such good people."

"It's all in good intention, don't worry. Who better to trust her than to Redfield?" A calm, collected voice responded on the other line as Jack placed on his seatbelt and started the car, the phone leaning on his shoulder.

"I understand your reasoning sir, but even she should have more pressing matters with TerraSave, what if she turned the offer down?"

"I have full faith that she would not. Now why don't you head down to the usual joint? Lunch is on me."

"I-If I can make it there sir. These allergies will be the death of me."

Jack made it past the gate and its guard, going onto the traffic ridden road.

"Oh nonsense."

The voice on the phone sounded a bit louder than usual.

"Um sir, I think I pressed something on my phone, your voice suddenly spiked up."

"Did it now? You did say you were in need of a new phone."

Jack pulled the phone from his ear, looking to it with confusion. He couldn't put his finger on it, being so quick to go out for his lunch break but his blood ran cold with the sight of the lightless buttons and black screen.

His phone was dead.

"Come on now, we don't have all day."

He felt a threatening prick right behind his throat, within the small gap beneath the headrest of the seat, his blood running cold.

"As we agreed to, the usual spot no? And don't be trying any funny things now. Those allergies could have some nasty side effects on a peaceful drive such as this. And let's take all the time we can while we are at it. My family has no need to worry of me for the time being." The source of the voice maintained with their stoic, no nonsense voice, Jack gripping the steering wheel with sweaty palms as he dare try and peek at the reflection of his rear-view mirror to see if his ears were deceiving him.

And not a shout was heard among the blaring horns of traffic at the recent accident that occurred in the small sandwich and soup shack at the intersection of the 4-lanes streets, cars slammed up one against another, on their sides and upside-down, none having coming out whole, and same goes for their drivers and passengers.


	2. Chapter 2

silence

Claire didn't take much notice outside after a while as the dusty brisk winds merely picked up sand and stone occasionally, but what did steal her attention was p particular house. Rather than a normal house of any countryside, this one was an entire ranch. Nothing too fancy, but the amount of land that could be seen was quite plentiful -if not strangely empty-, a clay-colored set of bells jingling out in the open near the entrance of the door, upon which a grand dream catcher took place. Claire marveled at such a simple yet intriguing design of a home that this…babysit-ee could possibly be fortunate enough to live in.

"Here we are ma'am." The chauffeur announced as he stopped in front of the house, going over and opening the door for the TerraSave member before heading over to the trunk to retrieve her luggage.

Claire continued looking on, as for a ghost of a thought she swore there was a silhouette at the top left window before she turned to the gracious driver, gently gripping at her jacket as another breeze came by at bit at her at her exposed cheeks and nose.

"Would you know who happened to live here?"

"Hm, why yes. This is the Lumin Residence, home to one of the best engineers of the area, and as you can see, one of the only ones. Very charitable family though."

"Hm…nothing suspicious about them?" Claire was skeptic; then again, considering she kept reminding her self was on the job, it was hard not to be.

"Not that I know of, and I just came here on last moment's notice. Seems the previous fell ill from spring fever. According to him, it's just been quiet without the rest of the family around. Well, good luck then Ms. Redfield." With that said, the driver immediately made his way back to the limousine, driving away in moments.

Claire took in a deep breath before knocking on the door once, twice. The sounds of footsteps followed, along with the jiggling of the knob and the opening of the door. Claire was puzzled to find no one in sights first, but a slight angle of depression from her head and lo-and behold was a much petite girl.

Despite the height, Claire could tell the girl was more than at least thirteen years old, chestnut colored that fell to her shoulders, a mass of somewhat messy bangs just above her eyebrows. Attire included a normal set of jeans, a black t-shirt that was inches above her knees. Curious hazel eyes behind lucid glasses observed Claire before the girl stuck her hand out with a greeting smile.

Claire smiled back, shaking that hand. "Hello. It's nice to meet you…"

The girl merely gave a nod, motioning her wordlessly in with a small bow.

At first Claire pondered as to question such, but she merely gave a 'thank you' as she went through the home, and boy did it seem bigger than it looked on the outside. As the babysit-ee carried the luggage off, the babysitter was more interested in the inner scenery. To her surprise, for a friend of a friend, there didn't seem to be much of interest that he could have possibly had. There was little to no furniture that stood out, pictures and portraits were nowhere to be seen, any of which having a translucent layer of dust. Open and closed cardboard boxes, small and large alike, were filled with paper-wrapped unknowns by unknown likes, and only few ornaments adorned the walls, native western line art that resembled rough drawings on cave walls and leather.

_'Well, I can't say it's the warmest welcome...'_

"I can't recall being in a house like this…if ever." Claire wondered out loud, though the girl didn't respond. Only footsteps did. She looked curiously behind her, the girl continuing to go back and forth without a word, finally coming over with a notebook. An ordinary looking laptop that didn't look fancy nor wrecked, though certainly not new, and a black hand-sized tape recorder on top of it. Again, the girl spoke not a word, sitting over at the leather arm chair, as if observing her.

"…is there something wrong?"

Again, not a word. Only motions, that of mainly pointing at the recorder and shaking her head a bit.

"You want me to play it?"

A nod. Well, seems silence is golden in this situation. With a small sigh, Claire pressed at the triangle, the wheels the cassette beginning to spin with a deep male voice.

"_Greetings. To the babysitter hearing this, if you are present, I thank you for sparing your time to take care of my adopted daughter. Her name is Raelyn Lumin, and she is mute. I'm sure she's in the same room right now, listening to the recording with you."_

'That explains the quietness...' Claire absently looked in her direction, but continued to listen.

"_I'm on a business trip at the moment if you haven't been told, and in the process of moving to a new home, but I believe there may be something strange going on in the town we live in. I've no solid proof, but the people are acting quite strange at the moment. I contacted you because I heard you've specialized with this sort of situation"_ –Claire could immediately tell the man in the recording was trying to avoid speaking over specifics, especially if he knew well enough that even his adopted child was close by listening close and well- _"and though I wish to be with her myself, I'm afraid that isn't possible at the moment. It should only be a week's time or less before I return. There are leftovers in the refrigerator for such a time, and Raelyn has the money to pay for take out to mix things up a bit. She can take care of herself well, but these are precautions I take either way. Raelyn may 'speak' to you in sign language, but should you not understand, she should be more than glad to provide pointers. I'm sure you will do a great job."_

With that, the recorder ended with a click, Claire looking over to Raelyn who was still looking in her direction, giving a small shrug. Her expression was so casual it almost seemed as if she was expecting all the reactions Claire would make.

"…well, guess it's going to be quiet for a while huh?"

Raelyn gave a nod, opneing her laptop and with a series of quick clicks and pauses then turned the laptop around in Claire's direction.

"Yeah, I'm really not up for the sign language thing, but I am up for playing some video games right now. Knowing your number wouldn't be a bad idea either for this kind of thing don't you think?"

Claire blinked a few times at the screen before looking over the grinning girl who just seemed so relaxed there.

"I guess so…"

It seemed very awkward speaking to a mute; almost a paradox, as if one didn't need words to communicate and vise-versa. Though there was still more to the text of course.

"So, you wanna get some rest or have some take out? I just got some Chinese."

"I'm feeling up for some Chinese."

Well, aside from the possible imminent doom of another biohazard, what farm could a 'break' do having lunch with a mute young teen?

_'But if the situation was a s dangerous as it seemed, why leave her behind to begin with?'_

She had no answer to her question for the time being.

* * *

Name: Leon S. Kennedy

Occupation: United States Secret Service Agent

(what a mouthful…)

But with a mouthful of a title comes only the greatest honor ever?

Not much really. Yeah, working for the president himself sounds like a big deal, but really…there wasn't much to say about it. He was of no use if bioterrorism was so low; rather, of lesser use, as he could still be a police officer, like he had planned to be so many years ago. Well, look how well that turned out.

Raccoon City, of course no infected population of civilians was going to turn into zombies and go after you, and mad scientist? What's that? Surely not someone who could make a WORSE virus, haha! And escaping nuclear explosions are easy right?

Leon gave a heavy sigh as he leaned back against his arm chair in thought. The plain white walls of the hotel room were darkened by the darkened day where he was, where it was pouring cats and dogs. Despite bioterrorism not being as much a problem as it was years ago (hopefully), the world was at large with much more now. An unstable economy, wars of little to no reason between countries, society deteriorating to mass of conflict and xenophobia. Though it seemed normal from a perspective of their own, it was still a conflict that was harder to deal with than just using weapons…ironically, that was part of the cause.

Even right now, it seemed this is how it's supposed to be…and in a way he was almost disgusted. Almost as disgusted as the idea of people doing experimentations with others for the 'sake of science' with no regard for life whatsoever…almost.

A knock at the door interrupted his deep thoughts, getting up as he stepped over yesterdays newspapers with a crinkling sound. About to serve his coffee too, but he could wait a moment longer, going over to the door.

"Who is it?"

No response.

Leon cracked the door open a bit, looking about for anyone, only to find a pile of mail and a package on the floor. Though he barely heard the sound of footsteps fading, he opened the door anyways, picking up the mail from the floor.

'Huh. More stuff from the government probably. They're the only ones who know I'm here.' Not to mention offered him with one of the best rooms, but he declined the offer for the sake of being inconspicuous.

Let's see, bills, bills, a notification letter; it was all typical stuff. Working for the president was a much private matter, as usually an official he knew would come over themselves to personally give the parcels and such. It's strange they decided to get out of site so quickly.

'Wonder what's up with them.' Taking his mug of coffee with him as went back to him arm chair going through the letters. Bills mainly, not much of a surprise. A notification letter, no doubt either a note to say he has another mission or can finally have a real break…hopefully not the President's daughter trying to ask him out on a date yet again.

He curiously looked to the yellow-wrapped package. No address to or from. No stamp even. Curiosity over priority, he decided to check it out first, beginning to get the packaging paper off. Beneath it all was a black box. Again, nothing special about it. Just a roughly sanded black box. Neither light nor heavy. Undoing the small turning key, the lid flipped back, immediately revealing some pictures.

But not the kind he'd ever expect to see. Turning on a lamp to make sure his eyes didn't fool him, he was careful to pick them up. Not one, not two, but more than shocking pieces of evidence he'd never expect to see in picture form.

The first was seemed to be a distorted figure in a tank. In fact, a Tyrant. A flip of the page and it even said so on the back:

July 1998: T-002

Last seen: Arklay Research Facility

Status; Eliminated

And the next was similar, as so was the one after, and the one after. Each one in a different year or different time of that year. T-003, T- 103, Nemesis T-type, Tyrant T-0400, T-092...it was unbelievable. Leon had abandoned the rest of the mail on the floor and even ignored the presence of his coffee that continued getting colder. Eve if he only encountered one and heard of the others from research, he was nonplussed on who could possibly attain such data.

Those weren't the Tyrant were much worse; the victims of G. That's right, that ugly virus that reared its head years ago at the airport that had a habit of taking it's victims by an unstoppable mutation. Pictures of the four stages of William Birkin's transformation, Los Illuinados specimens, Operation: Javier, even Curtis…

"How is it possible?" Leon finally brought his thoughts aloud. Though the most disturbing was yet to come, as beneath all those pictures was a thick glassed tube; a syringe almost, but inside was a DNA like spiral, both that were a thick blood red color. Beneath it was a note that made Leon scrunch his eyebrows in worry and ghosting anger.

**You've done well enough so far these years. Do you think you can keep it up?**

If this didn't make Leon think of too many questions in one time, then clearly he was going to need more than a break.

* * *

"So it's started."

"About time."

"Are we actually gonna go through with this without Wesker?"

"Who now?"

"Exactly. He is not important to this situation. He has decided to play cat and mouse with his old friend and rival, and that is all there is to it."

"But the ones we do need involved need to deal with him first, and until Wesker is defeated, that isn't going to happen."

"Oh, don't worry about that. That's the reason we have already have non-B.S.A.A. members of society in our sights. They should be in their expected areas now."

"You still haven't explained what this all is going to lead up to."

"Now, why would we want to do that, hm?"

"I suppose you have a point. But I expect you all to do as you promised to keep this compromise."

"We have no reason to back out now. Like you said, the fun's just started."

* * *

Alright, a bit more mystery and less nonsense, I like it already. Question is do you? Review and constructively criticize please! Chapter lengths will hopefully expand as the story goes on if there's enough people following.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been forever since an update, but with so many RE games that came out that didn't impress me because they lost touch of the old just about, I'm going to pretend the following do not exist; RE6, Operation Raccoon City, Revelations, Mercenaries(even though it kind of doesn't count, but whatever), and Damnation.

There will be a point where I will ask you, the readers, if I should go by the canon and go as far as following what would fit with the RE6 situation, because there is rumor of a new RE games coming out, (REDDD aka Resident Evil Degeneration-Damnation-Downfall), that may have Claire in it…how soon though? I don't care, because this is going to keep going with its own thing until the RE6 Segway.

Onto the plot.

* * *

solitude

"So you'll be fine on your own right? I shouldn't be out for long."

Raelyn gave a nod as she sat in front of the TV, conveniently blowing the heads off of various zombies in a game Claire kept forgetting the name; however, as long as she never got involved with anything involving a virus or an outbreak, then her conscience would be clear. For the most part at least.

Claire said no more as she walked out with recorder and notepad at hand, a bit blown back by a fall gust before it died down again.

'Alright. Nothing wrong with a little exploring to see anything suspicious.'

At first glance, Claire realizes how small the town actually is. A population possibly no larger than five hundred at least, from what she could remember when she was being driven in. She could barely see the blur of tall buildings in the distance, the signs of a larger city and more bustling life.

"Well, this would make for a good location for a plan to be hatched. Nice and quiet, too." Claire looked to her cellphone. "And barely a signal around here. Guess that means I'll have to report in person of whatever happens. I'm sure Raelyn won't mind me using her house phone later on.

Claire began to walk around, and despite the clear day and more than tolerable temperatures, it seemed like nary a soul was out for noontime. The houses seemed to only come in two types; the wooden shack-like shelters that seemed to have come right out of 1800s with their dusty feel and strange means of still standing; the latter seemed more modern in form with tile roofs and adobe brick, but their surrounding areas seemed to have made the age creep into their territory and subconsciously bring decay.

"Quite the friend you have Jack…I wonder how you met him to begin with." Claire spoke her thoughts out loud, sure that no one was around to hear her, the wind only making the wood whistle and squeak as if making notion not to mind it, making old rocking chairs go unevenly with the rhythm.

Seconds turned into minutes and then into a whole hour as Claire reached the town limit, with only an old gas station and tumbleweeds to greet whoever came through, just as she did. With a sheriff's station right next to it and the bar just across, she could see the city in the distance, but it was still as if she saw from the opposite direction that was just as far away.

The result was the same in silence and solitude.

"Hey you!"

Well, almost.

Claire whipped her head to the voice, finding a gruff looking hoarier that sat under the shade of the gasoline station, beer in one hand and a can of tobacco in another, eyes hidden underneath the brim of his grimy hat. Well-worn jeans and a shirt spoiled with splotches of black and brown reminded her of the old man that just seemed to be necessary in these kind of locales. Not as bad as Senator Davis, though it's safe to say it was a different breed of rudeness.

'Don't be so stereotypical now…' Claire brushed the thought as she approached the old man.

"I've never seen the likes of you 'round 'ere. You the one that came in that fancy limo?"

"Yes. I'm Claire Redfield, and you are?"

"Hmph. Shouldn' be much of your business, but the name's Shane. What are you doin' around here? Working for that crazy in the ranch far over? Or are you a nosey cop just askin' for trouble?"

_'Crazy?'_

"Just a babysitting job, but I would like to ask some questions."

Shane spat into his spittoon, taking a swig of beer as Claire waited for a response, keeping her safe distance from a stench that made normal morning breath seem pleasant.

"What about? And what for?"

"Just curious. I'll be out of the way in week."

"Doesn't feel like a time worth telling much, but if you're that bored."

Claire ignored the last past, leaning on the closest filling station. "How about this town for starters? This place didn't show up on the map that easily, let alone the finding a ride to get here.

"Been in this place for ten years, and from what I've picked up on the locals around here, I reckon town's been around for over a hundred. For passersby that lost their way or needed a break. This used to be sacred native Indian Territory of some sorts too. It doesn't have much publicity to begin with for its superstition though."

"Superstition?"

"They say the Indians who lived around here did rituals to summon spirits from way beyond that have passed to ward off forces that destroyed their homes long ago, at the price of human sacrifice. Rumor is that the Indians that were slaughtered after years of defending their land come back from their graves to try and take a human sacrifice and rid their land of the intruders. And that means me…and even you missy."

Claire, disregarding the man's sad attempt to frighten her, took careful note of the story, as silly as it sounded. The dead coming back to life was something that was true after all, so what could have stopped the superstition from becoming a reality? At least in one way or another.

"What…kind of people are they?"

"Superstitious people." Shane snorted at his joke of redundancy but Claire's serious look made him think twice before answering again. "Well, widows for one thing, and old farts like me. There's kids around, but don't see much of them either. And if I do, well, they better keep away from me. They all quiet folk that live in the past, and don't want nothing to do with anyone else outside of town."

"So why isn't anybody around outside? On such a nice day?"

"It's known as the Spell of Roaming you're in right now. Started three days ago. Basically everyone stays in and keeps out of the way of the 'roaming Indians' that are said to be walking these ground right now. It's why they got them dream nets and cow bones and whatnot at their doors."

"How long is it supposed to last?"

"Beats me. It can go for days, to weeks. Longest one lasted for about a month for as long as I've been here. Guess until someone comes out of their cave to see for themselves."

"So why are _you_ outside?"

"What? Don't tell me you dig this bull story too. I don't believe in damn roaming spirits, and at the least I convinced them that I'm standing 'on guard' for 'suspicious evil presences that come this way'." Shane gave a laugh, though quickly followed with a dry cough, drinking it down with more before clearing his throat. "But hey, like you said, it's not half-a-bad day to be out."

"Right…so what can you tell me about the man that lives at the end of this town? Mr. Lumin, who owns the ranch, seems to be moving away."

"That crazy ass? Hmph, he's been riling up the people. His 'engineering' and trying to modernize the place leaves him be the 'wicked one' that refuses to leave, but apparently it doesn't budge 'im. Then again, what moves an arrogant rich guy who decides to go out in a place like this? Unless he's that crazy, and apparently he is. He lives alone as far as I know, because I don't see no other people when he goes back and forth."

Claire raised an eyebrow that the tidbit of testimony. "You don't know if he has family?"

"Never met 'im. Never went to that ranch. Wouldn't care less. But if he did live around others, they'd probably be as miserable as he is if they come out less than the locals."

The wind seemed to whistle away louder, tumbleweeds rushing away, and chimes joining in a strange nonsensical song, Claire finding herself clutching her jacket closer form a wind much colder than expected, and Shane holding onto his hat.

"See now? There's your spirits. Just a bunch a sounds, dust, and dead grass."

"…well, thank you for your cooperation Shane."

Claire turned her heel, beginning her hour long walk back, taking out her phone, ready to send a message to the young teen to see if she was hungry yet.

"Hey! One more thing!"

Claire turned around, still able to hear the man who lifting the saggy brim of his hat, revealing lucid foggy eyes and an almost toothless grin.

"Lock your doors and windows tonight, so you can hear them rattle away from the spirits that want to enter your home."

Claire just turned around with a silent huff, but despite having had most of her physical questions answered, just as many questions came up.

Why live in a place like this to begin with?

Why were the people so fearful of stepping outside?

Was it truly a superstition or something else?

"…what does Lumin have to do with all this?" Claire questioned, writing the enquiries down as she continued on, though felt a strange…discomfort settle over her, like a blanket that was too heavy for the day. She turned around and looked about, nothing having changed or appeared in plain sight. Left and right, the chimes and bones clattered and clanged away as the wind passed, and that seemed to be the order of the place.

"Get ahold of yourself Redfield. The week's just started and already you're paranoid."

She continued on, unknowing of the watchful eyes that peered through the cracks of old curtains and blinds of the homes she passed.

* * *

The front office to the apartment complex was empty and without much action. The TVs changed between hours of repeated vacation commercials and late night news feeds, with only the night shift attendant sitting at her place, flipping through the pages of a magazine with the occasional yawn. There was nothing interesting done or people coming at such an hour except for those who need to go to the bathroom or needed more toilet paper. Spring break was far behind and summer still had ways to go, and it made it no better that I t had been raining for days now and hasn't stopped.

'It can't get much worse.'

She heard the bell on her desk ring, about to give a sigh if it was going to be the same guy that demanded for more toilet paper for the 6th time within the span of 12 hours. She peered over the pages of her magazine to find someone else instead.

'Oh, nevermind then.'

"May I help you, sir?" She placed her magazine down, looking at Leon, who didn't look much happier.

"Yes. I would like to know where your postman is. I received a package from him that didn't have a name or address."

"Well, the postman just left for lunch break. He should be at his station." The attendant said.

"Could you direct me to his office?"

"Of course. Just follow me please."

Leon was silent as he trailed the attendant, his mind clouded with questions of the package.

_"Benford, it's Leon."_

_"Calling already friend? You're supposed to be on vacation, are you not?"_

_"Something's come up. I think I've been spotted by a member of Umbrella."_

_"What?"_

_"I received a package with no address or name, but it has picture of several BOWs released by Umbrella, along with what could be a virus or a blood sample of one. I don't know why is was sent to me, but it's classified as a threat for now."_

_"This is most serious indeed. We will need that package and its evidence. It could help us to another lead. But this agent that seems to following you…if it knows where you are, you must snuff it out and try to apprehend it before it decides to try and start a biohazard in the area. Take caution Leon. This could be the work of something other than Umbrella. Take no chances."_

_"Right."_

The attendant knocked on the door of the postman, his office surrounded by the many PO boxes of the other rooms.

"Roger, you've got an unhappy customer. We don't want to break your streak for good delivery service."

No answer.

"Roger? Hm, he might've gone out to eat, but I would've noticed…"

Leon took his chance, opening the apparently unlocked door and entering and finding the area empty. Piles of envelopes and boxes were neatly place left and right, and the desk was clear for what seemed to be dinner time, but there was no presence of another person.

"Do you know where he could have gone?" Leon asked.

"Well, he usually heads to a Chinese buffet only ten minutes away from here with a walk."

"Don't you think he would've brought an umbrella out in weather like this?" Leon pointed out as he motioned to the dry umbrella in the corner.

"…well, he is a bit old. I wouldn't be surprised if he had other packages to put out still." The attendant's voice couldn't hide the worry in her voice, wondering where the worker could have gone.

"Well, if he comes around, or if something shows up on the cameras, would you please notify me as soon as possible?" Leon handed the information of his room and mobile phone over to her, giving a short nod in reply.

'So already someone is either considered dead, missing, or just not in the right place at the right time. I don't like this…'

As Leon left and headed to his building, he checked his watch for the time, wondering when the rain would stop…

"…time…"

It hit him like a bullet, quickening his pace to a sprint as if a Licker was suddenly on his heels, heading straight towards the elevator.

"This would've given the agent enough time to enter the room if they got in!"

It didn't take long for a call to reach his cell immediately answering, just reaching the floor where his room is located.

"Mr. Kennedy, Roger is just fine, but there's something wrong." Leon could detect confusion in her voice as he kept up his pace, already drawing his pistol out.

"The cameras in the floor of your room are not working. From the footage last taken, they have been down for almost three weeks now, or were taken down without our notice."

"Three weeks?"

"Yes. According to your bill, you had your one week reservation done at the exact same time the footage was cut-"

With a crash of thunder and flash of lightning, the line was cut off, and the hall became pitch black, Leon right in the middle of it.

"…this isn't good…"

* * *

…hm, bad or good cliffy?

Not sure I'll be able to keep up the pace on this one. It IS somewhat of a slow starter, but that means it's also a slow burn.

Review, constructively criticize, suggest, and all that good stuff if you like where this is going, or just want to know what'll happen next. Um, any continuity issues, please inform me of, I like sticking to what the universe that Resident Evil presented and taking advantage of what is and isn't there.


	4. Chapter 4

edge

Leon was quick to have his gun drawn, taking each slow step with as much caution as a spider with its web. The darkness was not opaque, but it was certainly a strain on his eyes every time the lightning flashed by the hallway window to donate its light for a few moments. The hallway was quiet, minus the pouring rain striking the window, but in terms of people, no doubt Leon's employers were the only ones rich enough for such a high floor.

'Less hostages to worry about…'

The thunder continued on as Leon came closer and closer to the door of his room, the next flash revealing a crack in the door, with a dim light barely showing through.

Instead of the thunder, another sound instead pierced the darkness; a high, clear whistling trill that felt like a shrill alarm with an ending chipping that assaulted his ears, turning around. Timing was not on his side, for the minute he tried to see who was behind him, a flash of lightning raced past, so close it blinded him for only half a moment. Half a moment where he only heard a light jingle.

He pulls the trigger.

And Leon immediately let go of the gun as he felt a searing, wet tar-like sensation upon his hands, still seeing spots in his vision as he attempted to see the perpetrator. Instead, he only found himself falling back with a precise and swift kick to his solar plexus, his pain turning into numbness and then nausea quickly following alongside choking on air. His vision started distorting, the spots getting larger and smaller, white then black then white again. Time slowed around him, as he couldn't tell if his body took seconds or hours to fall asleep in feeling, let alone falling.

He opening his mouth, only for a weak crackle to come forth.

Eventually the spots stopped, and only blackness welcomed him.

For how long? Who knows?

His unconsciousness had no dreams to behold. Only vicious, garbled sounds. The remnants of his most recent phone call, a warped reimagining of his warning to the president that was filled with a maddening laughter every few words, the constant shrill whistle that undulated through the whispers and shrieks, like a vicious cycle. And his voice had no place in such madness.

* * *

"…hey Raelyn."

The young teen chewed and swallowed the preheated lo mein noodles before looking up to Claire who sat across her at the small round table.

"I was wondering…why is it that your father came around here?"

Claire found herself feeling a bit rude, seeing that Raelyn had to get a whiteboard near the end of dinner, rather than waiting until then. She couldn't tell if she was eager to know more, or to leave from the town as soon as possible. If so, it would be with Raelyn the same. Speaking of, she soon enough passed the white board over before continuing to finish her meals, Claire scanning though the sentences before her.

"…reduction in workforce?"

A nod.

"And this was literally the only place he was recommended to move to be close to his new job that would have been paid?"

Another nod.

"Sounds like it wasn't much of an expensive move for a place like this."

A shrug.

"…" 'Man, I thought I was used to this kind of quiet.'

Claire felt time seemingly go by slower in silence as they continued to eat, the whistling winds outside turning to dull hollow hums, the rickety grandfather clock in the corner of the living room ticks with each swinging second, and the occasional, barely-there rustle of the wandering tumbleweeds. At least, that's what Claire hoped it was, as she could sense the little rasping in the walls of insects; and in the desert, more often than not, spiders and scorpions of the like. The sounds of clattering interrupted her thoughts, finding Raelyn heading to the trash bin to discard her empty paper plate and utensils.

It began to feel much more than awkward; in fact, infuriating really. It felt like a normal day for her. Absolutely ordinary. Every evening in her own apartment she would be left to her own. All her friends, just as busy as the next, with their own involvement in their fight against bioterrorism. Not even a pet to keep her company. Piles of papers and folders did so instead, from petitions and fliers to junk mail and bills. She certainly is no fighter like her brother, though she recalls the feeling- the need to get up and do something that could mean more.

"…Raelyn? Do you feel lonely? While your family was…is elsewhere?"

Claire took a moment to realize what she asked, looking to the girl for an answer. Her response was merely a smile. Not one of joy, and not really one of sadness. Just a strange smile that just made Claire feel unsure, but not sure of what. And with the same ignorance, and awkwardness, she smiled back.

"That was a silly question, now that I think about it." Claire admits. "Well, I think it's about time I get washed up and ready for bed. The water still works right?"

Raelyn gave a nod, going to the whiteboard to write a new message.

'I will get the boiler ready. Sometimes it doesn't work at first. You'll hear me hit it through the pipes.'

"Alright." Claire stood and cleaned up after herself. And she would do so again once she retreated to her room.

She waited the night away for Raelyn to retreat to sleep, tucking her in. Her room was nothing special. Empty shelves for books, several stacked boxes in the corners, no TV, and a window that had the perfect view to look out to the town all the way to its entrance. There were no family portraits on the walls anymore to speak of, no memories to really discuss. And if it was to discuss, it'd be one sided conversation for the most part.

"Sleep tight kiddo." Claire whispered, Raelyn falling fast asleep. Looking to the teen, Redfield could not help but be reminded of another.

'I wonder how Sherry is right now.'

Claire was not without visitation rights –with a little help from Leon-, soon after the G-Virus incident. The government had taken Sherry under their so-called protection –and experimentation-, and she could not help but wonder why she was not allowed as of late. Her TerraSave activities left her busier than normal, but not busy enough to distract her worries. Especially considering all the times she had seen Sherry's quivering lip and shaking hands, before and after her trials. The Redfield wasn't fond of the circumstances, but if the least she could do was be there, she'd be more than glad to do so and hold the girl in her arms. Less and less were there such signs, replaced by tired looks and sullen, irritated expressions. Suspicion was heightened between the both of them, but to Claire's dismay, she did not receive a letter in return of her own that warned her. Surely something occurred.

Though the more she thought of Sherry, the more strange her situation began to feel…in fact, the similarities of the situation seemed uncanny even. She walked down the stairs with the notebooks in hand she was given, small creaks and squeaks of the flooring turned to near silence once she was on the ceramic floor. Carefully setting the volume proper, she turned on another cassette in the tape recorder.

_"If you are hearing this now, then you are following my instructions as planned."_ It began, Claire following the directions as they were given. _"My workspace is next to the door to the boiler room. Assured my daughter is asleep, unlock the 3 locks to their respective keys."_

_"In my desk you will find the files and addresses of the people I have high suspicion of. I believe these intend to not create a new virus, but evolve the ones that exists. In particular, the T-Virus."_

Claire traced her eyes around the clean table to a small lamp and an old style wind-up clock. She held her breath at such callous mention of the virus, the tone in Mr. Lumin's voice less chipper than the introductory tape.

_"I entrusted this information to only Mr. Landers, because I could not deem it as high priority as to involve an entire team; lest there are more lives at stake. However, hearing of your exploits and experience, I believed it the wiser to have only you carry out this mission. My family, and especially my daughter, is in danger. This is the only location I could find that hid away from them, but I'm afraid it will not be for long."_

"…from who?" Claire asked out loud, looking through the manila folders, unable to find a folder for it, but instead a printed backlog. Notes of…strangers always around the corner. No real details, but only half-sightings and suspicions. Mentions of glowing eyes and shadows shifting almost seemed like a dairy of nightmares. The tape continued on.

_"Those people are after the ones here in this town; their seclusion makes them harder to miss. I do not know if the people responsible have an alias or not, or even if they are of Umbrella or another independent black market supplier, but if so, they are a danger nonetheless. I have a gun supplied for you, in either case."_

Claire opened the furthest drawer on the right, a Ruger revolver –'hm, I think it's a Blackhawk'-, with only one extra .41 Magnum caliber cartridge to spare. She swung out the cylinder, seeing that it already was loaded.

_"I pray you find no use for this but if you must, it is here to help."_

_"And one more thing." _A pause._ "If I do not return, take my daughter away from there, effective immediately."_

The tape clicked to a stop, but to Claire's dismay, there was another series of tapes just at the bottom of the drawer; all labeled with respective dates. Claire set on her headphones, taking out the files and a clean notebook of her own as she began her secondary assignment on making a copy of each log.

'Hm, guess I shouldn't have expected a complete vacation. Mr. Lumin couldn't spare a scanner in the middle of this move?'

The old clock ticked away as Claire wrote away empty pages, checking off and underlining names and dates as ink and graphite wasted away. The hissing white noise joined in and left for every cassette to be switched out. Claire froze at the sound of creaking above her, her head tilted upward as small clouds of dust fell. She only let out her held breath when she heard the creak of the pipes as water flowed through that followed after half-dragged footsteps and the squeak of a door. Open…and close.

'Phew…' Claire had to wonder though, as she paused the tape for a moment.

An absent father.

A child left behind.

A hint of bio-terrorism at work.

All in the middle of essentially nowhere.

'Could Mr. Lumin…' Claire shook her head, turning off the lamp. Taking the gun and files with her, she walked out and locked the door behind her, going back up the stairs. '…maybe…I'll continue this tomorrow.'

"I don't like this." Claire felt the need to whisper to herself. It was redundant, but if she could be able to save someone before the worst was to come…but she had to know _what _was to come to begin with before making any rash decisions.

Claire stepped into her room finding a less than welcoming sight before her, rubbing her eyes to wipe away the sleepy haze.

An open window.

And perched upon the ledge of that open window was a silhouette of a dusty black crow, and she would know from facing one too many in her lifetime. It simply just sat there, cocking its head to the side as if observing her.

"…didn't I close that window?"

Claire went over with all the intention to shoo the crow away as she neared, though it seemed unfazed by her nearing presence, ruffling its feathers.

"Shoo, go on!" Claire ordered, though it was diminished to a whisper to make sure Raelyn would not wake. The crow stayed however, Claire giving an annoyed huff and settled her files and tapes in the desk nearby. She swiped her arm at it, but to no avail as it leaped-

And with startling angry caws, it flapped its wings and flailed bare inches away, surprising Claire as she stepped back, arms crossed before her as she felt the stinging of its talons digging into her skin repeatedly alongside its pecking. She immediately reacted with stronger swings, feeling no sensation of impact of blows and the sounds of flapping faded away, finally opening her eyes.

The crow was no longer there, instead falling, swaying black feathers having taken its place. Still cautious, she immediately looked outside to make sure it was no longer around. Up to the cloudy sky, left and right to the empty horizon of the desert, and then down below as dust clouds passed by.

"…why is a crow here anyways?"

'Unless…there's a body nearby!'

It was a stretch of an idea, even an over exaggeration. It easily could have been just a stray of the desert; but she's learned not to take chances.

Claire ignored the pain from her scratches, only wiping them away as she prepared to leave. She peered out the door, surprised but also relieved to see Raelyn was still asleep, despite the ruckus she made. With flashlight in hand, and a jacket for the cold night, she stepped out.

The town easily looked even more eerie in the darkness of the night. They were too far from the city, and there were no street lights or lanterns in sight, rendering the area barely visible without the flashlight Claire grasped in one hand and held her jacket closed with another. The distorted symphony of the mundane sounds seemed just as effective; the creaking of the musty wood, and clattering of decorative bone, and the grass and sand that migrated about seemed louder than normal as the redhead began her search. She swore she heard another, amongst them…

Claire took one cautious step after another, directing her light toward the desert floor before her, checking the town again as she did in the daylight. To her dismay however, there were visitors.

Several creepy crawly visitors that had eight legs, which may or may not have had a stinger and pincers to go with them.

'Great. Zombie apocalypse, manageable. Scientist gone hulking monster, that's fine. But god above, WHY spiders? Just why?' Claire could not resist a shudder as she tried to calmly walk through the migration of arachnids that came through. As much as she did not wish to see them, she still gave them a glance in order to see if they acted to go in any particular direction. To her fortune at least, they did not climb up her legs. Just over her feet.

Claire sucked in a breath, holding back a yell from her seemingly childish fear, the crunching of the critters doing no better for her. The less she had to deal with, the better, she told herself. She shook her head and for a moment, almost missed a new detail out of the corner of her eyes.

Or so she thought.

She swung around, her light towards the small alley between two homes, but there was no one there. The same would be done all the way to the gas station- from one nook to another cranny- its building also closed out, Claire able to see the inner gating for the windows.

She took a moment to look out toward the city lights barely over the horizon, like a sun hidden in the night. The dull ache in her arms was completely ignored with the cold air that passed through the place like a phantom. Too far without a car, and she was left with little to no way back with even less communication options.

"Well, Shane was right." Claire sighed aloud. "There really is nothing more here."

'I'll need to see if I can catch anyone else from the files to interview first thing in the morning.' Claire gave a yawn, turning around to begin her way back. 'And if I have to, get ready to take Raelyn with me when I leave.'

A loud caw stopped her midstep. She looked up, her eyes directed and flashlight set upwards to the rooftop, a crow before her. One that had a spider in its beak.

Only one however.

'The same one?'

She kept it in her sights, slowly walking towards it. The crow craned its head as she neared and swallowed the critter with audible crunching, but she wouldn't climb a home to get to it; not one that looked the most rickety amongst others.

The few seconds seemed longer before the crow took flight into the night again, and for that moment, the wind ceased.

* * *

"Sir?"

"Mr. Kennedy?"

All the veteran agent could hear for the longest while was a high pitched squeal that ran on as frustratingly as white noise in the dark. The burning sensations in his hand remained, and even caused him to wake, a splitting headache joined by a light too bright for him to ignore.

"He's waking!"

Leon groaned at the volume of the sound, sitting upright again. Slowly opening his eyes, squinting once, twice, three times, he finally became aware of his surroundings. He was in another bed, but instead of the apartment building, it was that of a hospital room.

"How are you feeling?" An elder voice asked. Leon turning his head toward a man in a white hazmat suit and mask, a nurse beside with equally gloved hands checking the pulse at the junction of his elbow, with eyes going back and forth toward the machines behind him.

Leon found more concern however to his right hand, and even his left, both bandaged up and being set in buckets of ice.

"I would be careful. Not sure what you had on yourself, but your hands were suffering terrible burns. Though, they too seem to be the entry point of the infection." The doctor tried to set one of his hands down, but Leon even insisted on removing the bandages of one. "Sir, I will be forced to strap you down if you continue."

"He isn't going to listen." A familiar voice met Leon's ears, turning towards an agent in another suit walking in with an open laptop, an angry looking Ingrid Hannigan staring back at him. "So you best just show him, as well as I."

"Ingrid." Leon sighed in relief, but his worries pestered. "What happened?"

"You were found seizing in the hall of your assigned room. The entire area is set under surveillance and quarantine. What happened?"

"I was attacked by something or someone." Leon witnessed the unraveling of the bandages on his hand by the nurse, until he finally saw the result. His skin was blacked where he once held the gun, as if the firearm had actually melted in his hand; however, upon further inspection, it appeared to be a tar like material burned into his flesh, coin sized bumps of dark red and a sickly yellow that threatened to burst upon his palm.

"Oh god." Ingrid took good notice of the wound. "What is that?"

"Don't know. And this is saying a lot." Leon gulped and set his hand out over, the doctor giving a huff as he began to scrape away slimy excess samples as he mumbled about ungratefulness and the like. "But were the things of my apartment retrieved?"

"Yes. Agents were sent there to see if there were any hints of the intruder, but you're going to be staying until we at least figure out what you've been infected with."

"Whatever it is, it's more the reason I need to go and find out." Leon flinched at the sensation that ran from his palm up through his arm, like a current of fire set through a wire. "As soon as I am let out of here."

"Leon, if you are infected with a virus, you will stay here until we can get a vaccine." Ingrid commanded, the doctor setting out the box of samples to another team just out the door. In turn, two other members enters with restraint straps at the ready, no words needed to be enforced.

Leon grit his teeth, keeping his mouth closed from retorting, instead taking a moment to settle for a forced chuckle. "Well…so much for that vacation."

A loyal dog of the government to the end, he swore he could hear from the recesses of his mind. And if a dog was needed to be put down for being the equivalent of bitten by the infected, would a cure not be found…

He could not finish the sentence. Doubt remained in his mind. There was loyalty, but there was also having common sense. The government was a myriad of secrets that tested his devotion and silence, but he would concede for the latter for the time being. For now, he had a different unknown to ponder over.

* * *

*looks around in the empty reading area* I've no excuse really, but being in college, my writing and writing skills in general have been neglected for a while. I just got this brain fart out before it'd leave me, but come the fall, I should be able to write more. Like, mid-August ish, so deepest apologies.

R&R and have a good day.


End file.
